


No man's heart

by KeyKnows



Series: Shigure/Artorius [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Backstory, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious, Spoilers, Unrequited Love, i know the ship sounds nonsencical but i can explain, i swear i can explain i have a canon line backing me up, like i'm just tagging the ship bc i want to make my intentions clear, spoilers from the prequel novela, this is practically gen too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10130093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyKnows/pseuds/KeyKnows
Summary: Shigure didn’t join the Abbey because he believed in their cause, and he isn’t here for the sake of fighting daemons; he isn’t here to save the world, either. He is here because of Artorius Collbrande.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i was watching a playthrough and i just realize that Shigure's last words were about Artorius smiling and I CANT BE THE ONLY ONE THAT FOUND AT LEAST A LITTLE CURIOUS THAT HE SAID WHAT HE SAID WHEN HE WAS DYING I MEAN
> 
> anyway, i hope you like it

_“…when I see you, I see mystery - a pale moon’s beauty behind a veil of cloud…”_

—Geddes, John. A Familiar Rain

 

Artorius doesn’t speak about himself. Or more accurately he doesn’t speak at all. Whenever the man open his mouth is to give orders, to clarify his orders or to give some motivational speech to the exorcists, like today.

Shigure almost regrets joining the Abbey while listening to what he says. It’s always about doing this or that, going here or there, and damn, wasn’t this the kind of bullshit that made him wanted to get away from the Rangetsu Clan?

Nevertheless he stays around, because Shigure stills remembers the man he met years ago and he _knows_ that he must still be there, somewhere, under Artorius’ immutable face. And if anything, being with the Abbey is more interesting that waiting around for the Count to ask him to do his dirty work or training the hopeless students at the Rangetsu dojo.

This doesn’t mean, however, that he enjoys having to be here, just standing there like some idiot, while the exorcists watch their hero speak with unmasked adoration. It’s a mere formality having him and Melchior stand at both sides of Artorius as he talks, none of them has anything to add about whatever Artorius is saying. Shigure stopped paying attention _ages_ ago, instead he’s merely enjoying the sound of Artorius’ rhythmic voice.

After what feels like at least a few eternities, Artorius is done with his speech, the exorcists salute them in perfect, inhuman synchronization, and all are free to go.

More or less.

Shigure stays around at the Abbey because he wants to fight with Artorius. They have already crossed blades a few times and Shigure is sure that the day they actually fight for real, it will be one hell of a battle. But Artorius’ mind is far, far away from such things. He has a vision he wants to accomplish, a self-imposed duty to the world, and though Shigure can respect that…

It doesn’t mean he likes it.

He’s about to approach Artorius, to ask him if he would like to spar, he knows it’s unlikely he accepts but is still worth the try. And if he refuses then maybe he could ask him to join him for a meal, or…something, anything that would take Artorius’ mind away from all the work he always buries himself in.

However, Melchior is quicker than him and at the moment the last exorcist leaves the hall and they’re left alone, the old legate turns to Artorius and says something to him. In a very quiet voice. And Artorius answers him in the same secretive manner.

Shigure knows they keep things from him. He isn’t specially advocate to their cause so it makes sense that they wouldn’t trust him on certain information, yet. That isn’t what bothers him about Melchior approaching Artorius, he muses, observing the old man.

 _You’re staring_ , Morgrim’s voice says within him.

“Shigure.” Calls Artorius, suddenly, making him turn slightly to face him “May you leave us alone for a moment, please?”

Artorius’ voice is rich and even and polite. His eyes are soft while looks at Shigure, but his expression betrays no emotion, is impossible to tell if Shigure’s presence annoys him, or he is sorry for having to ask him to leave or…anything.

“Of course,” he answers immediately, starting to turn away from them, “sorry to intrude,” he adds with a lazy smirk, walking towards the door.

“Thank you.” Artorius says behind him, voice rich, and even and polite.

Shigure doesn’t need to turn around to know that there’s no gratitude on his face.

* * *

He still remembers clearly the first time he saw Artorius.

 His name wasn’t Shigure back then, deamonblight wasn’t common place yet, and the possibility of leaving the Rangetsu Clan hadn’t crossed his mind. He was still training and being in north Midgand was part of that.

The tales of The Exorcist weren’t exactly common knowledge, but in the way to this cold land Ichirou had heard things, stories about a man that could fight and win against those that have been “possessed”.

[Ichirou never mentioned it, but he knew that those that were supposedly taken by evil spirits actually turned into monsters, and that they exude this strange, heavy energy]

The stories said that he helped those in need, that The Exorcist was a wandering hero and that he was an incredible swordsman.

That was the part that had held Ichirou’s interest, but he couldn’t just go in an aimless search for someone that might as well not exist. Besides, he was here to train and his mother, the Shigure, wouldn’t have him slacking off.

So it was a mere coincidence, a curious whim of fate, that guided him to Artorius.

He hadn’t been sure if it was him, but the man in the middle of the snow covered field fitted the description he had heard and so he attacked him, because there was no better way to know if he was The Exorcist.

He was.

To say that Ichirou was impressed with the man’s swordsmanship would be an understatement. No one but his mother was capable of deflecting his attacks like this, and only she could made him antsy about the result of a fight. That The Exorcist was able of that, even though he was mostly defending and obviously didn’t want to fight him, made Ichirou’s heart race: The Exorcist made him wish he was a better swordsman, not to follow the path that was set in stone the moment he was born, not to fulfilled his role as the firstborn and not to feed his own ego.

No. The man before him, with his blonde silver hair and his eyes hard and cold as steel, the man that looked like a wandering knight or a fallen hero, made Ichirou want to be stronger because of himself; so he could take him head on and with no doubts, so that he could be a worthy opponent.

Besides, he noticed the man could’ve ended this if he had use the aid of the spirit that lingered inside him. He liked that: that The Exorcist chose to fight him with his strength alone.

Right now was not the time, however, so despite his heart pounding on his ears and his sudden, almost childlike wonder, Ichirou cut the fight short. He wasn’t ready yet to fight a man like him, but when he were done with his training and after becoming Shigure, he would go find him.

Ichirou didn’t give The Exorcist his name, merely recommending him to remember the Rangetsu fighting style, but he did asked for the man’s name.

It was a name that he would never forget: Artorius Collbrande.       

The smile that broke his face should’ve been specially vicious or specially weird, because it made Artorius’ serious expression turn confused but it tugged, after some consideration, the corner of his lips.

Ichirou barked a laugh at that, because even if Artorius’ sentiment was subtler that his, he could recognize the face of a man excited for a battle.

It was a face that Ichirou would never forget.

* * *

The next time he meets Artorius he can properly introduce himself: He’s Shigure Rangetsu, head of the Rangetsu Clan, and Artorius better have a good reason for being here, coming uninvited to his lands, having his way to get a meeting with him.

It’s been years since the first time he saw him, on that field in the middle of nowhere and many things have happened in the world between that encounter and this.

Shigure himself is not the same man he used to be back then, but he still manages to be surprised by seeing Artorius, and seeing someone so different. He still stands proud and tall, he stills has this air of confidence and righteousness about him, a certain mystery to his impossible calmness, and in his stance he shows his readiness to fight should the occasion arise.

And Shigure can’t say that he _knows_ Artorius, he barely exchanged words with him back then, but everything that Shigure needed to know about the man was said with his blade, and he wonders, in an almost dreadful way, what Artorius’ sword would say now.

Because, for starters, he has apparently lost use of his right arm. And his face, that was serious but benevolent, it now looks as if sculpted in stone; and his eyes, that were calm but held a powerful spark hidden within them, are now so dark the steely blue of his gaze can easily be missed.

Shigure saw him, that night not many years ago, and saw an incredible man with mysteries ready to be uncovered under his calm demeanor, with a world within himself that lured him in, with a fire strong enough to match his.

Shigure sees him now and sees a broken man.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asks him, inconsiderate and with a furrowed brow. 

 He thought of Artorius during these years, not constantly, but the man would slip in his mind occasionally, like when a spar with his brothers ended in yet another unsavory victory (Rokurou was getting good by the day, but _not_ good enough) and he yearned for more.

The thought of Artorius became even more pressing when he killed his mother and took the title of Shigure. Because now that she wasn’t around, the only person he thought would give him a good fight was that man he met that night. 

He couldn’t, however, go looking for him as he would have like. The Count wouldn’t have the head of clan just storming around and his new title came with responsibilities he couldn’t just ignore.

But he thought about him and if he ever imagined his reencounter with him, it wasn’t like this.  

Artorius sighs, puts the tip of his sword on the wooden floor, leaning some of his weight on it ( _that can’t be good for the stave,_ Shigure absently thinks) and meets his gaze.

“A lot of has changed.” Artorius says, his voice rich, and even and _sad_ “The Opening has leave a terrible mark on the world…and I’m afraid, is the same with men, including me.”

The Opening. Shigure can’t tell that he knows much about it, except that in one fateful Scarlet Night deamonblight spread like wildfire, taking lives and hope away, reminding humanity of its weakness.

“Of course,” Shigure says, dragging his words, not because he doesn’t believe him or doesn’t get what his saying, but because it answers nothing “And I’m guessing that’s why you’re here? You know, not just anyone can come in as you did and it’s not exactly easy to get here so, you got a good reason for coming?”

“Of course,” Artorius says, his words firm “I do. The night we met, you told me you could see malakhim, and being that you possess not only great resonance but you’re also very skilled in battle, I would like to ask for your assistance.”

Shigure sharps his eyes. This conversation is having a dangerous turn and though he _likes_ it, he knows he can’t talk about this, whatever it is, here.

 He gets up in fluid, easy movement that has Artorius twitching slightly in his place. Shigure allows himself a smirk at that.

“We should take this conversation somewhere else,” he says “and have a drink, too.”

Artorius nods, takes his sword and waits for Shigure to lead the way. While they abandon the hall, Shigure adds:

“And maybe we could even have a spar, you know, for old times’ sake.” He turns to Artorius with an eager, hopeful smile, waiting for the fire he remembers to surface on him.

But, instead, Shigure can see way too clearly how Artorius mediates his words, weighs the pros and cons of accepting and finally says:

“If you wish so.”

His voice is rich, and even and _dead_.

Shigure doesn’t like this.

* * *

They do have a short spar. After Artorius explains him the state of the world and tells him what he needs of him, Shigure says he needs time to think about it, but maybe a little fight will help him decide.

“Very well.” Artorius says and it’s impossible to tell if the idea of fighting Shigure makes him feel _something_.

At the end, Shigure has to cut the match short again.

 Artorius fights with eerie serenity, and even without his dominant arm and without aid of his malak, his blows are powerful and precise, his defense immovable and unbreakable; and Shigure _knows_ that he’s not going to win this encounter. He can tell it the moment their blades meet for the first time, _hell_ , he could tell just seeing Artorius’ stance.

But that’s not what makes him stop.

Shigure is angry, so very angry, he doesn’t remember the last time he was so mad about something, but how could he not be, when Artorius fights like he’s not even here, detached from the situation, with his gaze lost somewhere else, somewhere far away. Away from Shigure.

More importantly, mere minutes ago he was almost worry of what Artorius’ blade would say, but now that he’s fighting him he has the sudden, terrible, realization that it says nothing.

Like the man he knew, the man he fought, is dead and _this_ before him is just a puppet wearing his skin.

He’s so mad about the situation he even considers refusing to help him. But in truth Shigure decided that he was going to join him from the very beginning, so despite being angry and unsatisfied with their fight, he says yes.

Artorius thanks him and maybe his tone of voice would have deceive anyone else, but not Shigure. He sounds anything but thankful, not relieved even. It infuriates him.

As the mark of their newborn association, Artorius explains him how to control malakhim and says that he will give him one, so he will familiarize with exorcist artes.

Shigure has seen a fair number a malakhim across his life, but he has never seen one like this. He almost forgets he’s angry when he sees the small, fat cat appearing besides Artorius.

“That’s a malak?” He asks, a smile starting to creep on his face.

Shigure _loves_ cats. And cats love him, mind you, they always come when he calls them and most of the time they let him pet them. He doesn’t have one, but he feeds the stray cats that come to the Rangetsu state from time to time.

“That’s a malak,” Artorius answers, “some have human appearance and some don’t, like this one. Its name is Morgrim.”

Shigure kneels down without putting too much thought into it and tries calling the cat, but now that he really looks at it he notices the vacant look on its eyes and its weird stillness.

 He makes a face, and it must be a very interesting one (he’s _not_ pouting) because when he looks at Artorius to ask him what the hell is up with the malak, he finds the older man looking at him with softer eyes, and he’s not smiling, no, but…but for a moment it almost looks like he might.

And Shigure does smile, because if Artorius can look at him like _that_ , then the man he met is still there, somewhere, buried under whatever happened to him.

One day, Shigure thinks, he’s gonna ask him what happened to him.

* * *

It’s not even been a week since Artorius gave him Morgrim that Shigure sends his instructions to hell and lets the malak regain its freewill, it doesn’t sit right with him having so utter control over it. He doesn’t know much about malakhim beside what Artorius told him, which certainly wasn’t much, but he knows at least that they can be killed and that means that they’re alive.

So he gives Morgrim back its freewill, knowing the malak will probably go away the moment it becomes aware and that Artorius will probably not like it. But surprisingly enough when he frees Morgrim, the malak doesn’t run immediately after.

It looks at him with its big, yellow eyes shimmering brightly in the middle of the night, somehow wary of his intentions. Shigure returns the gaze firmly, waiting for what the malak will do.

“You…” starts saying Morgrim with a feminine voice, “you’re not like other exorcists.”

“I’m not an exorcist.” Shigure answers quickly, a half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, very curious of the malak.

“Oh?” Morgrim exclaims quietly.

Then what are you, she asks with her piercing gaze.

[because Shigure can’t bring himself to call the malak an “it” anymore, not when her voice and her short words convey so many hiding meanings and her eyes shine with intelligence and wisdom beyond his understanding

and weren’t malakhim supposed to be some sort of gods, some kind of lower deity in the old sayings?

weren’t they to be respect and adore?

wasn’t their blessing and favor to be pray for?]

“But you’re not ordinary man, yourself,” Morgrim continues, like they hadn’t just stare at each other’s eyes for minutes and like she had listen to some of his thoughts. “What are you, then?” she asks at loud this time.

“I’m a swordsman.”

I bet you’re more than that, Morgrim doesn’t say as she breaks eye contact and turns to the open door of Shigure’s bedroom. Beyond the sliding door lays a big, beautiful garden bathed in moonlight, and the sound of running water can be easily heard coming from there.

“I don’t remember much,” Morgrim says, “apart from Lord Artorius wanting to form a pact with me. Would you care to explain, Mr. Swordsman?”

Her statement brings a lot into question. About how she met Artorius, about how she lost her freewill, about the nature of their relationship if she was a slave of some sort but still calls him Lord.

[he can relate]

“My name is Shigure.” He starts saying “Shigure Rangetsu.”

Morgrim acknowledges him with a short nod, then sits, rises one paw and licks it, waiting for him to speak.

He loves cats, he thinks, looking at her behavior.

But Morgrim is not a cat. 

* * *

“You look unhappy.” Morgrim says from her spot at the corner of the dojo.

She has the grace to wait for all the students to leave before making her comment, like they listening would have been a possibility.

“They’re hopeless.” Shigure says, making a tired face of disgust once the sliding door has close.

There is a stain of fresh blood on the wooden floor. The Rangetsu style is a violent, merciless one and every one of the apprentices knows this, bleeding and dying in the middle of training is an accepted fact.

All of the apprentices have Rangetsu blood in them, and per tradition any of them could become the next Shigure, all they would have to do is kill him. However the title has stay in Shigure’s branch of the family for some generations now, and by the looks of things, it will stay there.

It’s shameful and infuriating how little of a fight they can put. As head of the clan is his duty to train the most advanced students, to assure that every member can be as deadly as needed and that they can uphold the reputation of the Rangetsu style.

His obligation as a teacher mostly consist on supervising but today he couldn’t bear to watch both the pitiful form and lack of intent of the students and he step in to show them how the Rangetsu style it’s supposed to look like.

He was using a bamboo sword. He doesn’t want to imagine how much more blood they would if he had use a steel one. Or maybe they would be a dead body in the middle of the dojo now. He doesn’t care at all, really.

He has been restless, and he has become more so by the day. It’s not the first time Morgrim has made a subtle comment about his state of mind. But Shigure can’t help it.

It’s been almost a month since his younger brother, Saborou, challenged him for the title of Shigure, said he wasn’t cut out to it. He had to accept, since his brother made all the proper, traditional arrangements to make it as official as possible. Shigure knew his brother wasn’t going to have a chance, but he fought anyway.

He killed him, because there was no other way that battle was going to end.

And even though he knew the result from the beginning, Shigure still found it in him to be disappoint.

Watching the disgraceful performance of the students just added more fuel to the fire.

But that’s not the only reason he has been uneasy. When the Count heard about what happened he was infuriated; said he shouldn’t have killed Saborou, that he was still useful, said that the ways of the clan were barbaric and old-fashioned, that senseless murder like this couldn’t continue further.

Shigure held his head down and, as calmly as possible, defend the traditions of the clan and remind the Count the terms of their ancient vow of servitude.

He had never wanted to kill anyone so badly. Shigure isn’t specially known for being a respectful man, he is loudmouthed and vulgar and has little consideration for anyone, but if there is something he holds dear is the Rangetsu name and all it signifies. Having to listen to the Count said what he said about it, judging the ways of the clan like he held any kind of authority on the matter made his blood boil.

[like being his attack dog wasn’t enough]

He’s tired. He’s tired of all of it, of having to listen to a man as despicable as the Count with his head down, having to obey his commands and treating him like he has earn any kind of respect from him. And his tired of the students and their terrible swordsmanship, and his tired of his brothers and their unsatisfying fights and their resentful gazes and their poor veiled bitterness

[Rokurou, specially, that is starting to harbor a certain, special kind of ill feeling]

He tells Morgrim all of it. After the students go and the dojo stays silent and Shigure gets a bottle of sake he keeps under the stave. He tells her about how tired and displeased he is with his life.  

Everything was easier before, he tells her, when his mother was still alive and he had a clear path before him, someone he aspired to be like, a rival worth taking down.

“And what about Lord Artorius?” Morgrim ask him.

Artorius. The sound of the name makes him close his eyes and reminisce about a snowy night, about a pair of fiery blue eyes and a promising smile. It also reminds him of a disheartening reencounter and a dead gaze.

Artorius…

Shigure sighs and takes a big swing of his drink.

He hasn’t talk to Artorius since the day he came looking for Shigure and asked him to side with him. That day, Artorius told him to wait for the next Scarlet Night, said that how things were they couldn’t do much yet, but once the moon turned red again there would be a lot for them to do.

Shigure didn’t ask, back then, since there were other worries on his mind, but afterwards he asked Morgrim about it.

She didn’t know what Artorius was planning but, she told him, the world had change in the last Scarlet Night, it would probably do so again in the next one.

The Opening had changed Artorius for the worst, maybe the next Scarlet Night would fix him.

Shigure can only hope.

“Why don’t you get away?” Morgrim questions choosing not to annoy him to share his thoughts on Artoriu, “if you feel so lost here.”

“I’m waiting for the right time, that’s all.”

The next Scarlet Night is still in few years away. In the meantime, he will endure a life that offers him nothing but disappointments.

At least Morgrim is with him.

* * *

Rokurou couldn’t have pick a worse night to challenge him even if he had tried, if his intricate, unnecessary trail of excuses to kill him was supposed to be a challenge.

The bloody shine of the moon is at its peak when Shigure finally ends the fight that has drag way longer than necessary. Rokurou is on the floor looking more broken and useless than the sword Shigure actually shattered.

He should kill him, Shigure knows, he should kill him as per tradition even if Rokurou’s challenge wasn’t a traditional one. He should kill him because that’s the way of the Rangetsu style: if you’re not good enough to win you don’t deserve to live.

But they’re other things in his mind at the moment and he doesn’t muse long on his brother’s life.

[and Rokurou has the potential to win, one day, when he’s less arrogant and better prepared, when he can face Shigure without having to mask his reasons

and he likes fighting with Rokurou, despite everything; he has always been his favorite brother, as fated to loss against him like the rest of them but more spirited than them, too

Rokurou has what it takes, Shigure thinks, he has a good form, a good head over his shoulders and the will to carry him on

he doesn’t kill him, because one day Rokurou can win

he has already killed enough family members, anyway]

“Lord Artorius is waiting.” Morgrim says beside him.

Shigure doesn’t need the reminder. He has been waiting too, for years he hasn’t care to count he has been waiting for the moment when he can face Artorius again.

He’s wary of what he’s going to find when he meets him again. Maybe he will look as dead as the last time, or something about this night will shift the world inside him and make him look alive again.

Shigure is both eager and scare to know.

That night, that later will be known as The Advent, Shigure leaves the Rangetsu clan for good, tired of its antics and disappointments and tired of not being true to himself.

He leaves, full of yearn and hope and distress.

* * *

Artorius wants to save the world. Whatever shape that venture takes, whatever may the cost be. He wants to save the world of humanity’s mistakes and wants to save humanity of its faults.

Shigure can respect that. After living for so many years tied down for vows he didn’t make to people he didn’t care about; he can respect someone choosing his ideals for himself and defending them so valiantly.

He can respect wanting to convince others of these ideals, too.

Artorius hasn’t told him, however, just how he plans on saving the world.

The Abbey has quickly gain power inside the church, it’s already having influences on the royal family, and the public has put all their wavering hope and faith on them. It’s only a matter of time for their power to truly consolidate.

It’s been a year since the Abbey was funded and it’s been year since Shigure left his home, his clan, everything he ever knew, and exchange it for this.

Lately, however, Shigure isn’t exactly sure what _this_ is. It’s fun, at least, being at the Abbey, despite having to take orders that sometimes he doesn’t like (no, he tells Artorius, he is teaching no one ever again, the young recruits can suck it), he has the opportunity to travel the world and fight daemons. Granted, they usually aren’t that strong, but something about their nature makes them fiercer and given how many different form they take, he’s always encountering a variety of fighting forms. If anything, it’s more entertaining that being the Count’s attack dog.

And yet, it isn’t enough. He didn’t join the Abbey because he believed in their cause, and he isn’t here for the sake of fighting daemons. He isn’t here to save the world. He is here because of Artorius Collbrande.

The head of the Abbey is usually too busy to pay Shigure more mind than necessary, and he rarely sees the man out of duty. It’s very rare for Artorius to ask to see him for something that isn’t official and that’s why, when a young exorcist comes running to fetch him, he’s quite surprise.

Artorius wants to see him, the exorcist says, and he will be waiting for him in the training ground. The request is even more particular when the young man mentions that Artorius asked to see him alone. Shigure supposes that means Morgrim cannot accompany him.

“How strange of him.” She says moments before Shigure leaves.

How strange of him indeed, Shigure thinks. He’s not only surprise at the request and its conditions, but also something like hope starts nesting in his chest.

It’s been forever since the las time he fought Artorius and despite remembering with terribly clarity how void that battle had been, Shigure can’t help to be at least a little excited at the possibility of Artorius wanting to see him for a fight.

That’s the reason he’s here, after all. 

The training ground is appropriately empty when he steps in. Artorius is at the other side of the room, sat in a bench with his sword resting on his lap, parallel to the floor. His eyes are closed and his posture is relaxed and unthreatening, but Shigure knows best.

Artorius never seems to be truly relaxed, despite the eerie calmness that he carries around. Taking him off guard, being in battle or in a conversation, it’s almost an impossible task. He’s strict with the work he does, with the exorcists, with the people he helps, but more importantly he’s strict with himself, like he’s not allowed to be anything but the head of the Abbey, anything but a perfect leader, a messiah, the savior of the world.

Even Melchior, with all his antics and his self-righteous bullshit, indulges himself from time to time on his only hobby: flower keeping.

But Artorius doesn’t seem to have a hobby, or even just something that he enjoys doing. As far as Shigure knows, he doesn’t have any special preferences on clothes, or food or anything.

He knows that can’t be true, that a human being cannot be like that, that everyone’s has something they like or they hate. But it’s difficult to hold to that belief when he sees Artorius in front of the masses given a memorable speech, when he trains the new recruits, or when he fights.

Even now, is easy to forget that Artorius is human. He’s only one year older than Shigure, but Artorius looks _so_ old, and it’s not only because of the deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, it’s not only his old-fashioned mannerism or his way of speak. It’s something about his essence that seems worn out and exhausted.

He looks, always, so very tired.

Artorius opens his eyes when Shigure is a few steps away from him. He greets him formally and asks him to take a sit. Shigure makes a face:

“And I here I thought you would finally stop putting off our fight.”

Artorius smiles, politely and devoid of emotion.

“You’re right, we never truly finish that.”

But obviously this isn’t about that. Artorius changes subjects then, starts talking to him about the Abbey, about the work they’ve done, about what they will have to do in the future. Shigure listens to him attentively; even if he usually finds boring his long speeches, he likes to listen him talk, he likes his voice, that just like him is calm and controlled and old. He can easily listen to him for hours, not catching anything of what he says of course, but just enjoying the sound of his voice.

Artorius suddenly stops himself. He looks up, at the tall ceiling, but his steely gaze falls further beyond the walls of the hall and he’s looking at something Shigure can’t see.

“Shigure.” He says, strangely quiet “Why do you think it is that birds fly?”

Shigure frowns. The enquiry has come out of nowhere and he didn’t come here prepared for some philosophical questioning.

He looks up too, then, trying to see whatever is holding Artorius’ attention. It isn’t the first time he has been victim of this kind of questions, his mother used to ask him many things during his training.

[“why do you want to be Shigure?” she asked him once

“to fight you,” he had said, young and blind

“you can fight me without being Shigure,” she had said

“no,” he had then clarified, young and naïve “I don’t want to be Shigure, but when I defeat you I’m gonna become Shigure.”

she had laughed then, thunderous and grave

“and why do you want to defeat me?”

and no matter what he answered, his mother never seemed to be satisfied but she never lectured him either, because the answer was for him to find not for her to share]

“Well, they have wings.” Shigure finally says after some time. Artorius impassively waits for him to elaborate. “They have wings…so they must fly.”

Artorius ponders his answer and finally returns his eyes to him. His eyes, impossibly deep and impossibly hard, blue like a frozen lake.

[he could drown in them, If they weren’t so hard]

After that, Artorius shares with him just how he plans on saving the world. Shigure can’t say he agree, Shigure _doesn’t_ agree, because one thing is slaving malakhim to accomplish a goal, and one thing is holding an iron’s grip on the people and the church, one thing is to infiltrate on the decisions of the royal family. Robing the world of their emotions is a very different one.

He doesn’t voice his disagreement, he doesn’t need to, it’s written plainly on his face. But Artorius just sighs, holds Shigure’s fiery stare and says:

“It’s what must be done.”

[“it’s what must be done,” her mother says, when she lays on the ground with his sword at her neck and he _hesitates_

because this is his mother, his teacher, his rival, his inspiration

“Rejoice when your blade finds its mark.” She recites, as the last lesson he needs to learn, “seethe when it doesn’t…

“…die when one finds you.” He finishes

she smiles

“the way of the sword is a simple one,” she tells him “but that’s what makes it so much fun, isn’t it Shigure?”

he smiles]

Artorius humors him with a spar after they have talked. Shigure wasn’t expecting it to turn any different from the previous ones, he knows he cannot win and he knows that Artorius’ blade is likely to remain silent.

But today is a day full of surprises, and once again something warm and pleasant, like hope or excitement, grows on his chest because Artorius’ sword does talk this time; not only his sword, but his eyes, his body, his whole being is saying thank you, thank you for understanding, thank you for staying.

Thank you for doing what must be done.

Shigure loses, of course. 

* * *

He’s almost expecting some kind of reprimand. In his defense, no one had the decency of inform him that Eleanor was still working for them and that they needed the small malak that was with her.

Even so, Melchior pesters him about it, about how, even if he didn’t know their importance, he should have done something about that group of misfits. He’s an exorcist after all, and he has a duty to accomplish, Melchior tells him.

Shigure gives him a piece of his mind, and the discussion would have turn ugly if Artorius hasn’t been there.

Artorius says that it isn’t Shigure’s fault, that he was in port Cadnix for other reasons, and that it makes sense that he decided to not engage with the group, even if a presumed traitor was there.

Shigure wouldn’t say he _didn’t_ engage but, he doesn’t correct Artorius.

Still, even when the meeting is over, he’s still expecting him to say something. Maybe not a scolding but at least some questioning for his reasons, because Melchior was right, he is an exorcist and his job is to quell daemons.

[matter not if they’re family]

But Artorius doesn’t say anything, he lets him be, he _ignores_ him even.

He’s too busy trying to save the world.

* * *

He realizes, unceremoniously, than he never asked Artorius what happened to him. It’s okay, Artorius didn’t know what happened to Shigure either, why he didn’t tell him his name the first time they meet, why he accepted to help him, why he stayed despite not agreeing with him.

Why he wanted to fight him so desperately. Why he fought at all.

Why he let Rokurou live.

It’s okay, he thinks. It’s what it must be.

He wasn’t destined to fight Artorius, he wasn’t supposed to defeat him. It’s right for him to die here, in Mount Killarous, by his brother’s blade.

Rokurou is troubled, he can tell, by his past decisions, by the way he won. Shigure doesn’t care, he has never care about it. He says so, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter why or how. Things are how they are.

The way of the blade is a simple one after all, and Shigure has live his whole life following that path, there wasn’t any other path for him, anyway. He’s done what he must, and that should be enough.

He sees his brother’s smile, discreet and a little sad. He surprises himself, seeing that smile and remembering the first time he saw Artorius in that snowy night, and the smile that graced his handsome features, if even for just a moment.

And if only he could still smile like that, then maybe Shigure could have die fighting him, instead. It’s a horrible way to think, it’s terrible to say this now, to see the confusion on Rokurou’s face at his comment, but he’s dying so it doesn’t matter.

He dies, wishing that Artorius succeeds. 

[maybe that will make him happy, maybe that will make him smile, maybe that will make him alive]

He dies, wishing that Artorius fails.

[maybe that will make him sad, maybe that will make him cry, maybe that will make him alive]

He dies, whising...

**Author's Note:**

> SO
> 
> this could have been a better fanfiction, but honestly i feel like if i keep editing it, it will only get worse, like, ugh, sorry
> 
> also idk, i just thought about this pairing and it dug its way into my heart and i know its just me and my feelings here but, i needed to get it out if my chest i hope you have at least found it entertaning
> 
> thanks for reading! every comment will be appreciate!
> 
> <3


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